Cole loves many things, but of all the things he loves two that are at the top of his list are being where the action is, and visitors. Cole loves to be where the action is. When people are over, he wants to be around them and watch everything they’re doing, and every time the doorbell rings, this look of complete and utter joy covers Coleman’s face, as he runs to see who has arrived.

So you can imagine how he feels when my aides come over, ring the doorbell, and go back into my room to help me. He’s so excited, he can hardly stand it, and the guy doesn’t want to miss a minute.

So any morning, or evening, the situation permits, there’s Cole—right in the middle of everything. It’s been this way since he could crawl. He plays in the bed, sits on my lap, and breaks my razor (the little turkey).

But, Cole’s favorite time is when I take my meds. Every morning, and every night, I take my pills, and wash them down with a little Sprite. Then, just like dad, Coleman gets a sip of Sprite too.

At first, it was just about trying to get the giant straw in his mouth like. Then, it became all about having the straw in his mouth like I did. But now, after a lot of work and patience, he’s figured out how to get himself a little taste of Sprite.

Now, he can’t do it all in one big suck. So, he puts his little lips around that big ol’ straw, and the little sucker just sucks, sucks, and sucks, over and over, until the wonderful combination of carbonation, water, and sugar reaches his mouth.

When it does finally gets to him, his eyes water up, and his face looks confused. Then the sugar waxes, the carbonation wanes, and a grin fills his chubby little face.

The other morning, my mom called and asked if she could come over and spend the morning with Coleman. In addition to her regular gifts of time and play that she so freely gives to Cole, on this morning she also brought my boy a present for Easter.

She came in the house to find Coleman giddy with excitement at the sight of his friend (Cole gets that way around his Grandmas). Once at the house, Kolette took off, not wanting to miss an opportunity to get in her morning run

After kisses and a proper hello (which usually means giggles and hugs), she pulled out the gift. I was sure that it was going to be some sort of candy treat or yogurt covered pretzel that little Cole loves so much. But when the package was opened, much to my surprise it was not chocolate, or even a toy, but a set of blue bunny ears attached to a plastic headband. As we sat there laughing at the present Grandma had found for her grandson, little did we know that the laughter had just begun.

Mom put the ears on Coleman, sure that he would pull them off the first chance he got. But, we learned something about Coleman that morning—the kid loves him a quality set o’ bunny ears!

He walked around the house looking at us while we laughed, wondering what was so stinkin’ funny. He’d look at us as if to say, “I’m wearin’ my ears…get over it.”

Just then, Ko got home from her run. By her laughter, I think it’s safe to say the last thing she expected to see welcoming her at the door, was Cole wearing a set of blue bunny ears.

He kept them with him until his nap, and when he woke up they went right back on. Now, some out there that believe the Easter Bunny to be a figment of peoples imagination, or the product of some tall tale.

To them I say, the Easter Bunny is real—and I’ve got the pictures to prove it!

Happy Easter

Jh-

And to further your Easter delight, I present to you the finest Easter commercial of ALL TIME!

It wasn’t far into Coleman’s “Jibber Jabbering” that his first word found it’s way out of his mouth and into our lives. Being the “Social Animal” that he is, it was no surprise to Ko or I that his first word was, “Hi.”

He’d cruise around the house waving his hands and sharing’ “Hi’s” with every Tom, Tammy, Dick, Dani, and Harry or Mary that came through our front door.

Just days after, “Hi,” found it’s way to the top of the charts. “Dad’s” and “Dada’s” started showing themselves into Coleman’s repertoire. He said the word everywhere. It was music to my ears. What I didn’t expect was the side effect hearing the words caused. My balance got all screwed up. (I went to the Doctor and he said I’d be fine once the pride curbed and I stopped sticking my chest out so far.)

But, as good as those days were the best and most verbally rewarding of my life came when Cole started combining his words.

It happens on a regular basis right now. I’ll be working in my office, keeping my mind on my work when all of the sudden, combined with the pitter-patter of tiny feet, I hear my big man’s little voice say, “Hi, Dad.”

I’ve received awards of note, been recognized by my peers, and presented in front of literally thousands of people, but it all pales in comparison to having my boy walk through my office door and say, “Hi, Dad.”

There are a lot of birthdays that fill up a lifetime, but few are as historic as your first. Coleman is going to have a birthday party on Sunday where he is going to receive all kinds of presents from all the people who love him. I’ll try to restrain myself, but you can probably guess how successful that venture will be.

However, in addition to the plastic “Fisher Pricey” thing he’ll get from me, I wanted to give him something else—something from the heart. I’ve decided to give him a letter; filled with my idea of how the talents and gifts that are already evident, and innately his will bless him as he grows to be a man—Just a father’s look into the future of his precious little boy on his first birthday.

Dear Coleman,

It’s hard for me to believe that it has already been a year. In some ways it seems like just yesterday I came home from the hospital at 6:00 am, all bleary eyed from being up 24 hours straight. I’ll never forget that morning and how no matter how hard I tried, the thought of getting back to you and your Mom kept me from getting any real sleep at all.

On the other hand, I don’t think I can remember life without you. It’s kind of like “The Three Musketeers.” I’m sure there was a time before they got together, but no one ever writes about it. You’ve completed this family in ways you’ll only understand when you yourself are a Dad.

At the hospital, you were the best thing since sliced bread—even the nurses thought so. They all went on and on about how handsome you were. Then before Mom and I could tell them thank you, they’d reply that they really meant it. One nurse even cornered me in the hall and couldn’t stop gushing about how you may have been the best look baby she had ever seen.

From the very start it was easy for people to tell that you were different from the crowd, and that’s only been reinforced to me over every one of the past 365 days. This letter is filled with some of the things I’ve seen in your little spirit that I hope you keep every day of your life.

Your birth was a miracle and every one knows it. When I showed your picture to my Physiatrist (Quadriplegic Doctor) she told me how happy she was that we were able to adopt. I told her that you weren’t adopted, and that you were my flesh and blood. She was flabbergasted (and freaked out a little bit) as she ran down the hallway telling everyone she saw that you were my genetic child—no one could believe it. So, I went down the hallway after her telling everyone that it was true. Miracles happen my son. Every breath you take is a testament to that. If you ever wonder if there’s a God, or if he hears and answers prayers, stop for a moment, get real quiet, listen to your heartbeat, and you’ll have your answer.

From the first day we brought you home you have had this happy attitude about you. You seem to have a smile for everyone. People love to be around you little Coleman J. Much of this comes from that happy attitude. When people meet you they always tell me what a happy little guy you are—keep that attitude it will bless you always.

Inside you there is a little spark of exaltation and intensity that can serve you well. I love to watch you take a toy in your hand, or get behind your big “standing toys” and shake the tar out of them. You do it with real passion. It’s evident when you bang your hand on the side of my bed or the way you become a whirling dervish in the bathtub. If you carry that same passion and exuberance into your life, you’ll always end up with success.

Man, can you pay attention. In the beginning it was the wall next to your changing table and the fans throughout the house, That turned into a fixation with cameras (which made it a little difficult to take your picture, but Mom worked it out) and now it’s everyone and everything. Never stop watching the world or the people in it. Never miss an opportunity to help another, or cost yourself the chance to do some good by losing your fascination with all that lives and breathes around you.

You have been blessed with a pace and patience that has already impacted me. When Mom and I talked to others about what it was going to be like to try to help you while being in a wheelchair, everyone said that I’d be fine—the only hard part would be my inability to help you because you would wriggle your body and arch your back right out of my arms. But that never happened. From the very beginning you’ve been calm and patient on my lap. It allowed me to feed you, burp you, and even carry you around on my lap. You just sit there. Take life at your pace. Never be in too much of a hurry. If you will, you will savor each year of your life the way I’ve enjoyed this first one with you.

You have a special love for everyone. You’ve always gone to others easily, never had a problem staying the night away from home, and have kisses for all. Give your love freely in the same way you share your little wave hello—plenty for everyone. If you will, you’ll be happier and the Savior will be proud. Remember the words Jesus spoke when he said, “As I have loved you, love one another.”

It didn’t take you long to figure out that you can always count on your Mom. She loves you so much and it’s easy to see you feel the same. I love the sweet relationship the two of you share. You can count on her for anything and everything. Talk to her throughout your life as much as you have “Jibber Jabbered” to her in this first year. You’ll meet a lot of special people in your adventures, but never one you’ll be able to count like your good sweet Mom.

From the first time I held you in my arms, I could feel the power of your spirit. More than once I’ve wondered how such a gigantic spirit fit into such a tiny body. But, more than anything, I’ve felt the closeness you have to your Heavenly Father. No matter how many birthdays pass by, never lose that special relationship with Him. He knows you and loves you and will do so today, tomorrow and forever. He’s never more than a prayer away.

Finally, always remember the three things I’ve told you every day of this first year

Kolette and I have heard a little wheezing and coughing the last few nights and felt pretty sure that Coleman had a cough/cold. However, we weren’t quite sure whether or not he had contracted the dreaded “runny nose” yet.

So, as we so often do, we’re turning to you, our friends in the blogosphere, to help us figure it out. We’ve posted the picture below and are waiting for your opinion. For either it’s a runny nose, or it S-NOT.